Drive (For Daddy Flynn)
by EDD17SP
Summary: Songfic- A Phineas-centric take on my favorite song by Alan Jackson, Drive (For Daddy Gene). Explores Phineas's relationship with his biological father, Robert Flynn, his step-father, Lawrence, and Phineas being a father himself. Fun with a 1960 Chris-Craft Continental wooden boat, a 1964 Ford F100, and a 1995 Ford Bronco.
1. The Chris-Craft Continental

**The writing in this first part is going to sound kinda childish, but I tried to write how a three year old would speak and how his dad would talk to him. The second part will be better. I think.**

**I do not own Phineas and Ferb. Drive (For Daddy Gene) belongs to Alan Jackson. **

The 1960 Chris-Craft Continental

* * *

_It was just an old plywood boat  
__With a '75 Johnson, with an electric choke_

* * *

_Dawson, Georgia. June 18, 2000  
The Flynn Residence_

"Phineas…wake up Phineas."

Three year old Phineas Flynn woke to the sound of his father's whispering voice. The small boy opened his eyes to find a kindly faced man smiling at him.

"Good morning, Phineas."

"Good morning, Daddy."

Robert Flynn was twenty-six. He had short brown hair that Phineas hadn't inherited, and bright blue eyes that Phineas had. "Are you ready for our big day?" he asked.

"Yup!"

"Alright, Mommy has your breakfast waiting. I'm gonna go hitch up the trailer. I'll meet you outside when you're done." And he left Phineas's bedroom.

Phineas quickly threw on the white t-shirt and overalls Linda had hung over the back of the chair in the corner the night before and rushed down to breakfast.

* * *

Phineas raced outside. His father's silver '92 Chevy 1500 was hitched up to a shiny new boat trailer.

"Hey, kiddo! Ready to go?" Robert asked.

"I'm ready!"

"Alright. Let's get going. We have a long drive ahead of us."

Robert opened the passenger door and lifted Phineas into his car seat.

"Where are we going again, Daddy?" Phineas asked as his dad climbed into the driver's seat.

Robert started the engine. "We're going all the way up to Atlanta."

_Atlanta, Georgia  
Jeff's Bait and Tackle Shop_

"Pick me up, Daddy. I can't see it good."

Robert smiled and lifted Phineas up onto his shoulder. They were standing in the parking lot of "Jeff's Bait and Tackle Shop." An old boat was perched on the trailer behind the Chevy pickup. The eighteen foot Chris-Craft Continental was freshly painted a brilliant crimson with a cream stripe. Lovingly built by the famed wooden boat company in 1960, the boat looked like it had just come out of the workshop yesterday, save for the lack of a protective coating on the wood. The previous owner had taken care of it well, and had been it the process of restoring it when medical complications had halted his work. A 75hp Johnson outboard motor sat on its side in the bed of the truck.

The grin on Phineas Flynn's face had never been wider. "It's all ours, right?"

"Yup. It's all ours." He carried Phineas over to the truck and strapped him into his car seat.

"Mommy and Candace are just going to love it!" Phineas said with a yawn. The nearly three hour ride up to Atlanta had worn him out.

"I'm not so sure Candace will be interested," Robert said. "But, I'm sure Mommy will love it."

"I hope Candace at least gives it a chance," Phineas yawned again. And as Robert started the truck again, the little boy fell sound asleep.

_June 19, 2000  
The Flynn's garage_

Phineas rubbed the smooth wood with a rag, making sure there was not a single speck of dust on the boat. Behind him, Robert was mixing special lacquer in an empty spackle bucket.

"How's it look, Phineas?"

Phineas turned around to face his father. "This boat is so clean, you could successfully give it an impeccable clear coating."

A strange look crossed Robert's face. "Uh, wow. Those were a lot of big words for a three year old. I think the phrase you're looking for is 'so clean, you could eat off it.'"

"But we're not eating off it. We're liquoring it."

Robert laughed. "Lacquer, Phineas. We're putting on lacquer."

"Ohhhh."

_June 23, 2000  
Just outside the Flynn Garage_

Phineas stood in the open cabin of the boat, wiping the wax off of the gunwale. The clear coating was smoother than glass, and the unpainted oak wood on the rail glistened in the sunlight. The rest of the boat, already waxed, sparkled like a diamond.

Robert's head appeared from underneath the boat trailer. He held a rag of his own. He had just finished wiping down the keel. "How's it look, kiddo?"

Phineas smiled down at his dad. "I'm all done up here. How's the bottom?"

"Finished." Robert groaned as he pulled himself out from under the boat. He reached up and Phineas jumped into his arms. "Oof! You're getting too heavy to keep doing that."

Phineas laughed. "Sorry, Daddy."

Robert set Phineas down and they walked around the boat. The Johnson outboard had been mounted on the transom and the entire electrical system had been rewired.

"It's beautiful, Dad."

"It sure is."

They stood and stared at the boat for a few moments in silence.

"When can we take it out on the water?" Phineas asked.

"This Sunday. We'll go to Walter F. George lake in Alabama. It's actually on the state line."

"I love bodies of water that occupy two territories at once."

Robert stared at Phineas again, who smiled back. "Phineas, sometimes, you scare me."

_June 25, 2000  
Walter F. George Lake (What a weird name for a lake)_

Robert drove the Chevy and now empty trailer up the boat ramp and parked it under a tree. He pulled Phineas out of the truck and held his son's hand for safety as they walked to the little floating dock secured to the shore line.

"I can't believe Candace wanted to go shopping with Mommy instead of coming out on the lake with us," Phineas said, slightly downcast.

"Well, that's okay, kiddo. It'll give us some father-son time."

They reached the spot where the wooden boat had been moored. Robert lifted Phineas over the gap and set him inside the little craft before climbing in himself. "Ready, Phineas?"

Phineas sat the red leather seat on the port side of the boat next to his father in the starboard driver's seat. He smiled and nodded but said nothing.

"Okay, here we go!"

Robert turned the key and the outboard turned over. He couldn't help but look at the joyous expression on his son's face as he slowly edged the throttle forward and moved slowly away from the dock.

The engine screamed as they tore across the water in the middle of the lake. The hand laid wooden hull sliced through the water with ease. Robert looked at his three year old son in the seat next to him. Phineas was holding on to the side of the seat cushion with one hand and griping the gunwale with the other. He looked like he was holding on for dear life, but his face read otherwise. The wide smile had not faded and his wide blue eyes stared straight out the windshield, taking in the scenery.

Robert suddenly cut the engine. The boat slowed down as it glided through the water, and Robert helped it along by giving it a little reverse throttle. When the boat came to a stop, he looked at his son again.

"Phineas?"

Phineas finally looked at his father, his facial expression still the same.

"You want to drive, Phineas?"

Phineas sat in the driver's seat, his little fingers unable to encircle the steering wheel. Robert put the seat cushion from the passenger seat under Phineas's cushion to sit the boy up a bit higher. He could barely see over the dash.

Phineas looked at his father. "Go ahead, Phineas. Just push that lever up and steer."

Phineas put a tiny hand on the throttle and pushed against it as hard as he could, but he could not move the handle. Robert put his own hand over Phineas's and helped him move the throttle to half speed.

"Thank you, Daddy."

The boat jumped forward, gliding along on the surface, the motor barely straining to move the little craft. Phineas held the wheel with both hands, so excited, he didn't know what to do. He could see the shore on the horizon to the east, so, with nothing else to aim for, he spun the little wheel hard to port and guided the boat inland.

Robert sat back in the passenger seat and looked out at the open water. "Those new aluminum and fiberglass boats are great, but you will never find a boat that rides like an old wooden runabout."

Phineas turned the wheel again, a bit to starboard, and then to port, and then took the runabout in a little circle. Out here, he was in charge. There were no other boats, nothing to crash into.

He remembered the books in his room that his mother thought he was too young to read. He had read them anyway, for he was way more intelligent than anyone thought. Treasure Island, Mutiny on H.M.S. Bounty, Robinson Crusoe.

Phineas turned the boat parallel to the shore, imagining he was sailing a great frigate on the open ocean, with cargo bound for Britain.

"Are you having fun, Phineas?" Robert asked.

Phineas was too engrossed in his imagination to answer, but he nodded and turned the boat back toward the middle of the little lake.


	2. The '64 Ford F100

**Just one quick thing to add here. Since the show started in 2007, as far as I'm concerned, every episode takes place in the summer of 2007, and the holiday specials are the same year. Therefore, the episode ****_Happy New Year_**** is the beginning of 2008.**

The 1964 Ford F100

* * *

_It was just an old hand me down Ford_  
_With three speed on the column and a dent in the door_

* * *

_Danville, Ohio. August 2, 2007  
The Flynn-Fletcher residence_

"Bye, guys," Phineas called out to Buford and Baljeet as they walked down the driveway.

"Goodbye, my friends," Baljeet called back while Buford waved.

Isabella appeared at Phineas's side. "Hey, Phineas," she said in a somewhat shy voice, "I had a great time today."

"I'm glad, Isabella. And tomorrow's gonna be even better!"

"Okay." She smiled. "See you tomorrow, Phineas." And she left the driveway, heading for her house across the street."

Now it was Ferb's turn. He walked up next to Phineas covered head to toe in a viscous red liquid.

"What happened to you?" Phineas asked.

"The strawberry syrup vat exploded," Ferb said simply. "I'm going to go take a shower."

"Okay, bro."

As Ferb headed into the house, an aged pickup truck pulled into the driveway. At some point it had been painted dark blue, but the truck was covered in scratches and rust and the little bit of remaining paint was faded and peeling. A big dent in the passenger door showed where it had been opened into a tree that someone parked too close to. Phineas's step-father, Lawrence, climbed from the cab.

"Hey, Dad. What's this?"

Lawrence's small perpetual smile widened as he looked fondly at the old truck. "This is a 1964 Ford F100 short bed. It belonged to your Uncle, James Fletcher."

"I didn't know I had an Uncle James."

"Oh, he died before I married Mom. Actually-" He looked up at the sky thoughtfully. "-If I have my years right, he died before Candace was born, long before I ever met Mom."

"Oh. That's too bad."

"Yes. He Grandma and Grandpa Fletcher's oldest son, ten years older than me or Uncle Adrian. He was the first member of the Fletcher family to come to America from England, way back in 1964. He bought this truck brand new from Tri-State Ford."

"So why do you have it?"

"Well, Uncle James was a carpenter, and he used it for years. When I moved here, I lived with him for several years and I used it sometimes, too. We had some great memories in this old thing, your Uncle and I." Lawrence had a sort of misty look in his eyes. "He always used to tell me that someday, this truck would be mine. Unfortunately, he had to sell the truck in the eighties when he lost job. We needed the money. He died a few years later of a heart condition."

"Aw. That's so sad," Phineas said.

"I all but forgot about this truck, until your Mom and I were going through a box of old photos and I found a picture of it. Well, I was determined! If the truck hadn't been scrapped, I was going to find it! I spent the last two months tracking it down, and low and behold, here it is!"

"That's awesome, Dad!"

"Yes, it really is, isn't it? I'm going to restore it, have the sides lettered with the Antique Shop's name and phone number, it'll be good as new! It'll make moving around large pieces for the shop way easier than strapping them to the roof of Mom's car. But, it's main purpose will be taking our bottles and newspapers to the recycling center."

"Why?" Phineas asked. "Doesn't a municipal truck do that?"

"It used to. But Mayor Doofenshmirtz had to make some budget cuts and the trucks went the way of the saber-toothed squirrel."

"Don't you mean the way of the Dodo?"

"No. I believe Dodo birds aren't really extinct."

"I know they aren't. Ferb and I found one earlier this summer."

"Did you now? So I was right! They said I was crazy, but I was right!"

Phineas laughed. Linda poked her head out of the garage. "Lawrence? Oh, good, you got the truck!"

"Yup! It's all mine!"

"Great! Well, since you have it now, can you take the recyclables? The cans are overflowing in the garage."

"Right away, love!"

"Thanks!" Linda went back inside as Lawrence fetched the recycling cans from the garage and loaded them into the back of the old Ford.

"Can I come, Dad?" Phineas asked.

"Sure, Phineas. I would like that."

Lawrence tied the cans down with a bungy cord and then climbed into the cab. Phineas was about to climb into the passenger door when he noticed Perry crawling out from under the truck.

"Oh, there you are Perry. Want to go for a ride?"

"Ngrgrgrgrgrgrg."

"Of course you do. Come on."

Phineas hopped into the truck and Perry jumped up from the ground onto the floorboards.

Lawrence turned the key. The engine cranked for a long time, smoke sputtering from the tailpipe, but eventually the motor turned over.

"There we go, that's a good girl." He patted the dash board lovingly.

They backed out of the driveway and headed for the recycling center.

* * *

The Danville recycling center was at the end of a long dirt road that cut through a field. It had been built far out of the way incase it needed to expand. The road was just one lane, and since the recycling trucks had only been nixed the week before, not very heavily traveled.

Lawrence turned off Thigpen Road onto the dirt, but then pulled to the side and stopped the truck.

"Why are we stopping, Dad?"

Lawrence shifted down to neutral and put the parking brake on before looking his son in the eyes. "Would you like to drive, Phineas?"

"Dad…I'm only ten. I don't have a driver's license."

"It's okay. It's a dirt road. There's no one on it. You won't get in trouble. You can drive if you want."

"Mmm…I don't know. What do you think, Perry?"

The platypus on the floor boards looked up at his owner. "Ngrgrgrgrgrgrg."

"Well…okay. I'll give it a shot."

"That's my boy!"

Lawrence unbuckled his seatbelt and Phineas did the same. The boy slid over to the driver's seat while Lawrence exited the cab and walked around to the passenger door.

"Okay, Phineas, it's a stick shift, so push that pedal-"

"This one?"

"Yes, that one. That's the clutch. Push that in, and then you can shift. Watch the tachometer, and when the needle gets up to about three thousand RPM's, let off the gas, push in the clutch, and shift up to second gear."

"Okay." Phineas took a deep breath. He could barely reach the pedals, but he pushed in the clutch as far as he could and pushed the shifter into first gear. He stepped on the gas and the truck jumped forward, the rear tires spinning in the lose dirt.

"Whoa!" Lawrence called out. Phineas let up off the gas and the truck rolled. "Just, um…a little bit easier on the gas."

"Sorry, Dad." Phineas pressed on the gas a little more gently and the truck accelerated smoothly, bouncing hard on the stiff suspension over every rut in the road.

Lawrence eyed the tach. "Okay, Phineas. Shift up."

Phineas let off the gas, pressed in the clutch and shifted up to second gear.

"There you go! Nicely done!"

Phineas grinned. "This is fun!"

Phineas listened to the engine's pitch, and when it got higher, without even looking at the tach, he shifted up.

"Good job, Phineas. Perfect! But, we're not running a race. Take it just a little bit slower!"

Phineas almost didn't hear his stepfather. He had completely lost himself in driving. He was no longer driving down a dirt road on the outskirts of Danville. He was racing down the front stretch at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway on the final lap, about to win the Indy 500.

"Phin-EAs!" Lawrence called as the truck hit a big bump. Perry actually flew up off the floor and hit is head on the bottom of the dash. The platypus winced and rubbed his cranium gingerly.

"Huh? Oh, sorry." Phineas pressed the brake in as gently as he could.

**When I sing this song, I sing "But I was Matt Kenseth in a pick up When Daddy let me drive." My dad used to let me drive his 1996 Ford F-150 (Which is the truck my OC, Steve, has in my ****_P&F Industries _****series) and I would always pretend I was Matt Kenseth, racing at Watkins Glen International. That truck is now mine, so it really is a hand-me down Ford. And I wouldn't trade that truck for anything in the world.**


	3. The 1995 Ford Bronco

**Bonus! This chapter takes place on the Fourth of July, seeing as how it is almost is that date, and I managed to include a little extra Phineabella. You have my permission to be duly impressed.**

The 1995 Ford Bronco

* * *

_It was just an old worn out jeep_  
_Rusty old floor boards hot on my feet_

* * *

_Marsh Creek, Ohio. July 4, 2031  
The Flynn Residence_

"Happy two hundred and fifty-fifth birthday, America." Phineas said, tying an American flag onto the radio antenna of his 1995 Ford Bronco. Even in the shadow of the two car garage, the old SUV's blue and white paint glistened, at least as shiny as the paint on a rusty old car can be.

Phineas had bought the old Ford in a used car lot on his nineteenth birthday, and though the gas mileage was terrible and it took three tries to turn the engine over, he just could not bear to part with it. It wasn't his daily driver. That was a fully electric car he had designed and built himself, currently sitting in the driveway out front. But, when you live on forty acres of land, having an old off road vehicle comes in handy for getting around. He had modified it, removing the roof and window frames. A sturdy roll bar protected the vehicle's occupants from being crushed if the SUV were to flip over.

The florescent overhead lights flickered on. Phineas turned to the doorway and found four women staring back at him.

"Are you ready, Phineas?" Isabella asked. Phineas's wife was carrying a large wicker basket filled to the brim with food.

"Sure am."

Three young girls of no more than five clustered around their mother. The sight of his beautiful wife was enough to bring a smile to Phineas's face, but the sight of his three daughters made the young man's cheeks hurt.

Isabella dropped her burden on the rear seat of the truck and then gave her husband a kiss. Phineas dragged it out for a moment before Isabella pulled away. "Phineas!"

"What?"

Isabella pointed behind her husband. Phineas turned to find his three daughters staring at him, mouths agape. He smiled nervously for a moment, then crouched down to their height.

"How are my three lovely ladies doing this morning?" he asked. They all wrapped their arms around him, laughing. "Are you all ready to go?"

"Yup!" Gracie answered. The other two just nodded.

"Alright, then," Phineas said, standing up. "Everybody in!"

He slid into the driver's seat. Isabella started to climb in the passenger door to sit next to him, but the three girls pushed past their mother, cramming three abreast next to their father on the bench seat. Isabella laughed at their eagerness. "Looks like I'm still taking a backseat to your creations," she joked. "Literally, in this case."

"Hey, you helped with these," Phineas shot back playfully.

"What? What do you mean, Daddy?" Kaitlyn asked.

"Don't worry about it. I'll tell you when you're older."

Phineas put the key in the ignition and turned it forward. It cranked a few times and then turned over, but almost immediately stalled out. Phineas tried again with the same result. Finally, on the third try, the engine started.

Phineas shifted into drive and pulled out of the garage, the sun beating down on the exposed interior.

"Whew! It's hot!" Isabella exclaimed, even though it was brutally obvious to everyone in the Bronco.

Phineas did not head down the driveway toward the road. Instead, he drove into the backyard. There was only two acres of well-manicured grass behind the house before the lawn gave way to bumpy and uneven ground, covered with weeds and rocks.

The family had traveled this way before. They had their own little picnic spot down by Marsh Creek, the little town's namesake, which ran through their property.

As they drove on, Phineas's mind started to wander. He actually stopped paying attention to where he was driving. Fortunately, there was nothing for him to hit out here.

He suddenly brought the old Ford to a stop.

"Phineas, what's wrong?" Isabella asked.

Phineas didn't answer. He turned to his daughters. "Would any of you like to drive?"

"Really, Daddy?" Emma asked.

Isabella raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, really Phineas?"

"Sure. There isn't anything they can hit out here."

"I want to drive!" Kaitlyn said excitedly.

"Me too!" Gracie added.

"You can all take a turn," Phineas said.

"I want to go first!" Kaitlyn said. She was sitting in-between her two sisters, and she was practically climbing over Gracie to get closer to the driver's seat.

"Okay, okay, don't hurt your sister," Phineas laughed. He lifted Kaitlyn up and pulled her onto his lap. It was just as well. Kaitlyn couldn't reach the pedals anyway.

"Ready, Kaitlyn?"

"Uh-huh!"

"Okay, just point the steering wheel where you want the car to go."

Phineas took his foot off the brake and gave it just a little gas.

"Wheee!" Kaitlyn yelled. She held the wheel tight, the Bronco drifting slowly to the right.

"Turn it just a little bit to the left, Kate," Phineas told her. "The picnic spot is the other way."

She turned the wheel to the right.

"Kaitlyn," Isabella said from the backseat, "Don't you remember which way is left and which way is right?"

"I am going left!"

"Make 'L's' with your fingers."

Kaitlyn took her hands off the steering wheel. Phineas quickly grabbed the wheel with one hand. Kaitlyn held up her hands, her thumbs extended at right angles in relation to her extended index fingers.

"Oh. Sorry." She took the wheel again and steered the other way.

They drove on a little ways at ten miles per hour, bouncing over the uneven ground. Finally, as they reached where the river cut through the Flynn's property, Phineas stepped on the brake. The picnic area was a little ways down the river.

"Okay, Kaitlyn, give one of your sisters a turn."

"Aw."

"Come on, Gracie, your turn."

Kaitlyn slid to the middle and Gracie sat on Phineas's lap. Phineas took his foot off the brake. "Alright, Gracie, turn right and just follow the river bank."

Gracie turned the wheel. "Other way, Gracie," Isabella said.

"Oh. Oops." She turned the other way. Phineas stepped on the gas a little.

"Dad, my feet are really hot," Emma said.

"Mine are too, honey," Isabella said.

"Yeah, I think the floor boards are so rusted out that they're getting hot from the engine and the transmission," Phineas said. "I should do something about that one of these days. Fix all the rust and- Gracie, turn left!"

The Bronco was skirting the edge of the river bank, having slowly drifted to the right. Gracie yanked on the wheel and brought the SUV, rather roughly, back to safety. Phineas lowered his head down to his daughter's level.

"Can you see over the dash, Gracie?" Phineas asked.

"Um…not really."

"Well, here, then." Phineas put an arm under Gracie's shoulder and pulled her up higher so she could see. "Sit up a little straighter."

"Sorry, Daddy."

"You're doing fine, Gracie. But if you can't see, let me know."

"Okay, Emma. Your turn."

Emma climbed onto her father's lap. She drove the rest of the way to the picnic spot, where Phineas had built a sturdy picnic table and hung a tire swing from a large dogwood tree that had grown out over the river.

Phineas pushed the brake as they neared. "Here we are!" Phineas called out. "Nicely done, Emma."

But Emma almost didn't hear her father. She was no longer just driving along a little creek in Ohio. She was off-roading up a mountain, barreling over rocks and cresting ridges, the American flag on the antenna flapping heroically in the breeze as she fought her way over the bumpy ground.

"Do we have to stop?"

"Yes, we have to stop."

"Awwwwwww."

They climbed out of the old Ford, Isabella carrying the picnic basket. "You girls did very well driving," she said. "You could use a little practice, though." She put the basket on one of the benches and from it drew a table cloth. She unfurled it over the wooden table.

"Well," Phineas said, "It is the perfect vehicle to practice with."

"And the perfect spot to practice in," Isabella added.

Phineas took the American flag from the antenna and tied it to a small sapling. The stars and stripes fluttered in the light breeze.

He turned and looked at his family. Isabella, his beautiful wife of six years, was setting out their Independence Day lunch. His three beautiful daughters were chasing each other playfully through the trees by the water. And there was his faithful old Ford, sitting in the shade of a large oak tree. He smiled to himself.

"This is why I love America."

**_The End_**

**I hope you all enjoyed this patriotic final chapter of this songfic. I shall be returning to writing ****_P&F Industries #8 _****tomorrow. I think I know now where I want to go with it next, and writing should be easier.**

**Thank you, Alan Jackson, for this wonderful song. As much as I love country music, and as great as songs about beer and women are, it's nice to have a song like this that nearly everyone can relate to.**

**As for the Ford Bronco: Yes, the lyrics say "jeep," but if you watch the music video for the song, it's a Ford Bronco. I'm a Ford guy, therefore, I kept the Ford Bronco. I made it more "jeep-like" but removing the roof.**

**I'm sorry I didn't give the Flynn children much personality. I'm not good at developing new characters, especially when I only have one chapter in which to do it. I couldn't even think of names for the kids, so I used the names of NASCAR driver Matt Kenseth's two daughters (Kaitlyn and Grace Kenseth) and NASCAR driver Greg Biffle's daughter (Emma Biffle). I acutally think the names fit pretty well. **


End file.
